My King's Dreams
by Darling-Corinna
Summary: Gift for SnakeyLobve. Twoshot: Zangetsu convinces Ichigo to learn how to love him correctly. Ichigo is bumping around in the dark on this one... But Kon will help him ! "Can't I just stay here with you in this dream... forever?" T for smoochysmoochy.
1. Part 1: You Love Me

/Okay, I went back and edited this a little bit. I fleshed out the actual plot, added more passion, a touch of humor, and some depth and history. I still don't own Bleach.\\\

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"_Zangetsu," for the first time_ in a while, Ichigo found himself unsure of what to do. He sat perched over the shirtless man, with both hands spread over the darker skin that wrapped trained muscle. His jeans, crumpled but still firmly on his lower half, were rubbing against torn robes.

The stronger hand, once above the mess of dark hair, slid around his wrist and pulled Ichigo's uncertain hand to thin lips.

"I know you'll do the right thing, Ou-sama," was mumbled before a steaming tongue dragged the long fingers into his mouth. Zangetsu closed his eyes, sucking slowly on the phalanges before the orange-haired teen let out a throaty groan.

"Wh-what is this?" His broken phrase juggled around his shaking mouth before entering the Zanpakuto's ears. He opened a single eye to examine the flushed male. His soft lips were parted, a shiny trail of drool from his lower lip to his Adam's apple. Chocolate eyes that melted with lust glimmered in the light of the moon. Zangetsu released his mouth's hold on the fingers, pulling his master down by a fistful of bright hair instead.

"This is love, Ichigo-sama."

Their lips smashed together with the force to shake Ichigo's body. He fell limp into the bigger man's embrace, who _furiously kissed the nervous male._

Tearing the blanket off of him and glaring out of the window filled with moonlight, Ichigo cried out. He was drenched in sweat, and he looked across the room to where Zangetsu was propped against the wall.

A tower of reiatsu shot out and fanned around the tired substitute shinigami. The energy that was once so great was wavering under the power of the Zanpakuto. That's when he appeared. The windblown dark locks hung as they had always hung, and the tattered robes were just as disheveled as they had always been. But the look in his eyes was what startled Ichigo. They were looking him straight on with a twisted sense of illness.

"You called, Ichigo?" The voice that had haunted his embarrassing visions was quiet, keeping a curious façade. Ichigo cursed his sleeping form for having called out his Zanpakuto's name.

"It's nothing," he grunted. He was hoping the dark-haired man would disappear back into his sword, but luck wasn't on his side that night.

"What is the problem?" The presence of the man who had haunted his dreams was borderline hysterical on his nerves, and Ichigo had to turn away to hide his odd expression. His head was spinning with explicit images. A bead of sweat traveled down his neck, and he noticed something terrible.

"It's obvious to you, isn't it, Zangetsu? You saw that dream," he pointed out, scrunching his eyes closed in humiliation as he twisted to sit on his bed. He ran his hands through his hair slowly for a few seconds before locking his gaze onto the floor. The grim man remained quiet, instead taking a step toward the youth.

"It is only a dream, Ichigo. It happens all the time to people your age," his voice blended into the dark as his form dissipated from sight. Ichigo's lips parted in a silent sigh of relief, feeling the tension coiling in his stomach disappear as quickly as his Zanpakuto had. It was true; just another strange dream. Not like he hadn't had those before. His hand fisted around some blanket, which was pulled quickly over his head. But the fact that the other person in that dream had been the spirit made something in the middle of his chest coil in anticipation.

Brown eyes lidded smoothly, and a flicker of a black cape appeared before he slept yet again.

"_I'm all too aware of your inexperience,"_ _Zangetsu_ said, twisting a long piece of orange hair between his thumb and pointer finger. His pinky curled under Ichigo's earlobe. They were lying next to each other in the sunshine, with the rays illuminating the side of his face mystically. The teen swiped a tongue quickly over his bottom lip, trying to quell his drying lips. Leaning on an elbow, his spirit drifted over him like an autumn leaf; ready to fall on top of him at any moment. The hand at his cheek was removed and replaced by a steady pair of lips.

"I can't help you, Ichigo, if you can't help me," the slow whisper brushed over his ear excruciatingly slowly. "That's what happens when you fall in love with yourself." When he stated it like that, Ichigo felt his stomach clench and unclench sporadically. Did he have to make it sound so narcissistic? The guilt bubbling in his brain was starting to give him a headache. He knew the older man was correct, and he reached a tentative hand up to _rub his thumb over the dark stubble._

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Stumbling into the kitchen, Ichigo ran a hand through his hair. The dream had drained his energy, ironically, and he woke up feeling exhausted.

The thing that bothered him the most was Zangetsu's awkward instructions. He would touch him in entirely normal places, his hands, his face, his ankles, but it felt like tiny fires broke out over the spots that were touched by the fingertips. The softest of moans had danced on the teen's lips, but the dark man remained solemn, almost cold, with his emotions.

When he was questioned on what he was doing, the older man simply shook his head, removed his hands, and said he wasn't sure.

Ichigo opened the door to the refrigerator and let the cool air blow across his face, almost banishing the ghost of sweat from his flushed body.

"Ichigo… Hey, Ichigo," a distinct, annoying voice called out, and a tiny paw curled around the corner of the wall. Two beady eyes looked up at the teen, whose refreshing bliss had been cut short by the stuffed animal. He shut the fridge abruptly before picking Kon up.

"What?" It was a straight up growl, and it was partnered with a menacing glare. The shadows from the recently-risen sun impacting the furniture bent over both of them, shading the lion's face.

"Please… don't hurt me! I just wanna help, man!" The mod-soul flailed, waving his arms back and forth desperately. He kicked as well, and Ichigo scowled before setting him down on the kitchen table.

"Make it quick," he warned, putting a hand on his hip impatiently. Kon took a big breath in, for dramatic effect, and clutched his tan chest.

"Why? You got somewhere to go-"

An angry palm smashed down in front of him, sending a shiver of horror through him before he gulped.

"Uh, y-yeah. You need some h-help, eh?" He rose a cartoon eyebrow with this, putting up both of his paws in a demonstration of peace. "I… I accidentally heard you and the old man's conversation last night."

Brown eyes widened, and Ichigo turned quickly to brush up the stairs. If he could ignore him long enough, maybe the annoying lion would disappear.

"Wait! I promise, I can help you out!"

Although embarrassed, the teen turned around to send a sharp stare at him.

"How?" He spat, looking the stuffed animal up and down. Ichigo was hardly expecting this; he didn't know Kon had a benevolent piece of stuffing in his fake body.

"I know where we can get some… _intimate materials,_" came the soft reply, but his face was utterly serious with its delivery.

The teen nearly escaped back into his room, but stopped when he heard the last two words.

Intimate… materials? He almost blushed, thinking about what the stuffed animal meant. No way would he lower himself to that pervert's level… reading that sort of thing…

But if he didn't, would he be stuck in this difficult hell forever? Cursed to only get so far from where he wanted to be with Zangetsu? That would be letting both sides of his soul down.

"Fine, Kon," he grunted, closing his brown eyes. He didn't want to see the sick expression of triumph on the lion's face.

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The next day, Ichigo went into town with a small backpack slung lazily over a shoulder. Every second or so, it rustled and grunted a few curse words. The slick soles of his sandals slapped against the steaming sidewalk, and the teenager managed to find his way to the bookstore with relative ease. A tiny bell that was attached to the top of the door jingled lightly as he entered and looked around.

For a Sunday morning, it was quite empty. Rows and rows of shelves of uniform height spread out about fifty feet in each direction, and the counter right by the door had a service bell attached to the top of the cash register. Signs that hung above each row read different genres in pretty yellow kanji. His pack started to rumble again, and a tiny voice was cursing.

"Welcome," the dull voice cut off his backpack quickly, and Ichigo turned to look at the older man behind the counter. His receding hairline had started to turn whitish-grey at the scalp, and ancient, hawk-like eyes were shielded by a pair of rectangle glasses. The owner of the bookstore had his hands clasped on the counter. Ichigo swallowed down his embarrassment and faced the man with complete seriousness.

"Good morning. I'm looking for," the word had to fight to get out of his constricted throat. "Porn."

The old man didn't gasp or look surprised. Instead, he shook his head and let a small smile slide over his wrinkly mouth. He nodded silently, waving the slightly surprised teen to follow him as he wandered into the back room.

"We only have extremely hardcore fetish, is that alright with you?"

"H-huh?"

The man sighed, now aware of how new the tall teenager was to this sort of thing. Ichigo felt like leaving the store immediately, but remembered the awkward hell he would have to face in his dreams if he couldn't follow through.

"Wait here, I'll go see if we have anything softer," a wrinkled hand rose to stop him, and the bespectacled man trudged off into another room. The backpack kicked his rib, and the orange-haired teen rolled his eyes before throwing the bag to the floor. It screamed, and the zipper shook until it was partially open. Kon's squishy head squeezed through the opening, with a scowl on his little lion face.

"You really think this will help?" He spat at the shinigami's feet, earning a harsh kick that planted him in the wall painfully. "Guh!"

"That's why I brought you," Ichigo whispered, glaring at the withering stuffed animal. "You're gonna help me pick the right stuff out."

"Do you even know what a fetish is?" The incredulous look on the lion's face put a guilty look on Ichigo's face.

"Not… exactly, no…"

Kon gave him a hard stare, and shook his head with a sigh. A swift punch stopped his 'I'm-so-ashamed' expression.

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Okay, I edited this. Added more… plot…

The last chapter will have a billion passionate scenes, but no lemon… sorry ;-; I hope you liked this! :D


	2. Part 2: I Love You

*rolls around happily* Oh oh oh! Such a wonderful response you have given~! Please enjoy this second half to My King's Dreams. Hopefully, this satisfies you, delightful reviewers. Finally managed to finish this… thought I would turn 25 million years old before that would happen ;_; Nyaknyaknyak. Check out the poll on my profile? :D Gee, thanks.

Still don't own anything, but at least I can pretend! I do pretty well!

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"I'm never offerin' my services again, man," Kon nursed his body that would be bruised and bleeding if it had blood and skin tissues in it. "This is what I get for helpin' a guy out?" He stopped himself this time, not wanting to add to his painful collection of injuries. Heaven forbid he was going to ruin this body while he was in it.

In the midst of the sweating and determined stuttering, Ichigo was hustling to find a place to hide the loud stuffed animal squished under his socked foot. Tiny fists tried to beat at his clothed arch, but the teenager just stepped harder.

"I'm just tryin' ta get you in the mood!"

"Mood my ASS! You need me to tie you up and hide you in the bathroom?" He ground his foot into the soft body, effectively smothering it into the floor. Kon's face was creating a small crater, and he gasped in breaths like a fish out of water.

"NO! Please, anywhere but there!" The wheezing lion was almost in angry tears. Ichigo tore off a piece of duct tape evilly, looking down at the quivering mod-soul. He held the silver strip of terror menacingly towards Kon. He successfully crippled the creature, tying his hands and feet together despite the violent thrashing. A tiny piece was covering his furry mouth, shutting him up. Picking him up to look into pleading black eyes, the carrot top frowned as he slid open his window.

The cool night air tickled his cheek with a teasing gust, ruffling the mane of the horrified plushie.

"Out you go," Ichigo muttered, and chucked him out of the window into his neighbor's garden.

"MMMM-" The muffled yell was cut off when Kon fell into a prickly bush, ending with a painful grunt. The twigs cracked underneath his slithering form, and he rolled to the ground with a soft thump. The window locked happily as it clicked closed.

Alone at last, the darkness gripped the copper-haired man's ankles, freezing him where he stood. The jittery feeling slid up to clutch his thighs, shaking his stomach wickedly. He managed to grasp part of his blanket to wrap around himself, but it didn't help his shuddering.

Anticipation was kick-starting his heart, making him ache everywhere. Even his wrists were in agony, imagining how they would bend to hold and caress the old man. His lips were dry, and his desperate tongue tried fruitlessly to moisten them as he knelt by his bed. The cool fabric of the comforter soothed his steaming forehead, and his eyes shut to try and banish the thoughts flitting through his tired brain.

He was ready for sleep to come, but at the same time… he almost dreaded what he knew would follow. Had he done the right thing by turning to literature? Maybe a movie or two would have been more effective… but what he had read was quite passionate. His faith in the books soared when he looked over his shoulder at one of them. Ichigo wrapped a tan hand around the spine, drawing the novel to his chest to press it against his raging heart. His thumb ran over the pages, causing them to purr when they slapped against each other.

The oranget knew his sword was watching his every movement. Raising his head from where it rested on the blanket, he again looked over his shoulder at the reclining Zanpakuto. The handle glimmered in the moonlight, teasing his memories of their previous, clumsy nights spent together.

He stood, clad in only pajama pants, and tore the blanket up to hide his twitching body underneath. The teen rolled onto the bed, wrapping him effectively in the soft shell. Now horizontal, Ichigo rested his head against the plain pillow and proceeded to stare directly at the mysterious sword. His eyelids, heavy with sleep, covered his brown eyes. Although excited, his lungs forced themselves to relax into slow, steady breaths.

_The wasteland he had become familiar_ with recently was different. Instead of a harsh brightness, only the light of a fake moon illuminated the barren landscape. The occasional warm breeze ruffled his hair, and he admired the large, round disk in the sky with glimmering craters. There were no fake stars to accompany the large moon, but it seemed to suffice the balance between sky and land by itself.

Ichigo noticed Zangetsu right away, simply because he was the spot of black in a sea of greys and whites.

"Ou-sama, why didn't you wait a bit longer?" His dreary tone wasn't what the teen expected.

"What do you mean, old man?" Stepping towards the seated Zanpakuto, he ran a hand through his orange locks. He kept walking until they were nearly face to face, and the older man turned his head away.

"You aren't ready yet," he muttered, glancing from the corner of his eye. Ichigo bit his cheek. After a whole day of reading and talking with that annoying lion… he wasn't ready? After he had spent gut-wrenching minutes _convincing himself that he was?_

Apparently the older man had other ideas, and Ichigo sat up from his crumpled pillow. His pupils dilated to accustom to the darkness of his room, and he landed a single blow with his fist into the mattress. He had just been ejected out of his own dreams. Rejected and cast out of his space… it wasn't a pleasant feeling, and he glared at the motionless sword.

To no surprise, nothing happened. No explosions, no magical glowing of objects; nothing happened. At least, not for the moments he spent staring viciously at the Zanpakuto.

"I AM ready, dammit," his hoarse whisper cut through the otherwise silent night. Sweaty fingers curled around the blanket, and he screwed his eyes shut angrily before gritting his teeth. What had he done wrong? Why couldn't he please… himself?

Was that the problem? His inner self wasn't happy with how things were going on the outside. Ichigo flopped back onto his abused bed, looking through the ceiling in a daze.

"_I told you, it's useless, Ichigo,"_ _the_ deep voice drifted to him as warm hands cupped his shoulders. The normally warm gesture instead felt distant as the mop of dark hair covered the sullen face.

"It's not," he replied with equal determination, standing closer to the man. His hands came up to frame the unshaven face. One of them hovered over the bangs, with long fingers pushing the hair back to reveal the deep eyes.

"Prove it," Zangetsu challenged, the whisper fluttering down Ichigo's neck. A dry laugh escaped the teen's lips before he tugged the older man down. When their lips met, a tiny flash of pain stabbed into the back of his head, where a rough hand was pulling on his hair. The other hand imitated the movement, pressing their lips together. A dark form looming before him, Ichigo growled lightly as he prodded the lips with his tongue.

Like his book had instructed, the lips parted and the small gasp of an open kiss echoed in the barren area. His hesitation allowed Zangetsu to press further into him and take hold of their osculation. Sharp stubble poked into Ichigo's soft chin as the Zanpakuto tasted the tops of his molars. One of the hands found its way to the small of the teen's back, dipping him slightly back.

Still dazzled from the contact, it took a few seconds for the copper-haired boy to bend into Zangetsu's body and grab his shoulder blades tightly. His nose grazed the dry cheek of the taller male, and he opened his eyes slightly. Before he could take control of the kiss, the hot mouth pulled away, a thin string of saliva connecting their lips. It shimmered in the moonlight, but broke as Zangetsu swiftly bent down to kiss Ichigo's Adam's apple. A heavy moan vibrated the youth's chest, causing him to drag the dark cloak down. His fingers moved like clockwork to caress the revealed tan skin, intensity of the moment growing exponentially.

Teeth nibbled experimentally on his collarbone, and Ichigo was panting as Zangetsu began to roam the teen's bare abdomen with a few light touches. A tiny lick slid under the flesh, mouth moving slowly south. Kneeling now, the older man had one hand on the soft curve of Ichigo's butt and the other behind his calf, holding him in place as he kissed the hipbone of his master. A small squeak rang from the oranget's lips when Zangetsu pulled away entirely.

"Done."

"What?"

"That's all the novel went over, Ichigo," he stated, placing his hands on his lap as he looked up at the bewildered teenager. "That old man only gave you softcore, and nothing too detailed."

"Come _on_, Zangetsu," Ichigo snorted angrily, grabbing a handful of dark hair and twisting down to kiss the man roughly. "This is where fiction ends and instinct takes over." Large hands went up to hold him from the ribcage. Thin fingers raked across the valleys between the ribs, sending shivers up Ichigo's spine. In return, he planted himself on the older man's lap, holding him firmly between the ground and the eager teen.

Zangetsu bit his lip harshly, gaining entrance once again as his hands traveled up and down the pale back. Their tongues were caught in another small war of dominance as Ichigo lapped at every inch of the man's mouth. The orange-haired teen had his hands, stiff as shackles, grip the hips below him as close as possible. Ending the heated kiss, Ichigo moved his lips to suck on the skin of his sword's earlobe, grasping the soft cartilage with his teeth gently. Calloused hands were massaging his chest, gaining soft hums from both of them.

The older man's nose was pressed against neck, sending little puffs of warm air down to tickle his chest with every exhale. The stubble was poking into his shoulder as he licked teasingly at Zangetsu's throat.

"Ou-sama," the groan from below him snapped open his brown eyes, lit up with lust. Ichigo hummed in response, encouraging him to speak while he was feasting. His pale lips moved to the strained muscle on Zangetsu's shoulder, feeling the tendons stretch with every reply of the excited body.

"Ichigo," there was an accent on the last syllable that was driving him mad, making him bite down.

"Yes," he kissed the tender spot before locking eyes. "Zangetsu?" Hands on his chest pulled away.

"Ichigooo."

"What is it?"

"Iiiichigooooo," the deep moan that had once excited him went up an octave. Ichigo pulled away, looking the man _up and down in confusion._

"_Hey, old man…"_

"ICHIGO!" Rukia pounced on the copper-haired teen, causing him to choke and begin coughing wickedly. Brown eyes filled with confusion and anger as they looked at the excited girl.

"Ichigo," she said again, climbing off of him and smoothing out her pretty sundress. "How could you do this to Kon?"

She held up the lion, which was now coated in leaves and mud, and looked very less than pleased.

"Huh?"

"I said," Rukia repeated, frowning and shaking the lion back and forth. "How… could you do this to KON?" It was followed by a whack on the head with the empty stuffed animal body.

"You left him outside, and now the mod-soul pill is missing!"

At this, Ichigo jumped out of bed, almost slipping on the fallen pillow. The short Kuchiki glared at him viciously, prepared to beat him over the head again. He snatched at the shirt he had abandoned the night before, shaking it out a few times before turning it right side out. The girl sighed, holding Kon's body with both small hands and attempting to brush off more dirt.

"Let's go get him, then," he grunted quickly, pulling the shirt on as he dashed down the stairs. "I'm missing out on precious sleep, Rukia!"

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Oh god, I'm really sick. Bodily fluids are just gushing out everywhere, and I have crazy headache and sore throat. Coughing up half my body weight in mucus. Urgh, frickin' miserable. On to write more and more. Wish me luck~ *sneezes all over laptop*

God, shitty ending. Review if you're crazy!


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